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No One leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. It’s such an innocent and naive gesture, but it somehow makes me want to protect him from danger. From the dangerI’m inflicting. Fuck, this is confusing. Which reminds me, I really should go before I do something stupid.
But then he presses his mouth forward, brushing his lips against mine. The connection's brief and light as a feather, and I hate it. Hate how my heart shudders while our breaths meld together. This was not part of the deal. He pulls back, the touch making him flinch, and when I open my eyes to see, he’s watching me with a dark, bewildered glare.
“I’m—I don’t know what got into me, I’m sorry—” he stammers, then closes his mouth again. Oh, fuck. Arousal floods through my veins on its way south. What the hell is happening to me? I’ve never gotten hard for a dude before,never. Still I dive forward, chasing his mouth for another brush of our lips. My stomach tickles again, and my cock hardens a little further when No One lets out the softest of gasps.
“I hate you,” I mumble into his mouth. And then I grab his throat and push him against the door for good measure, before slamming our mouths together. He shivers, lips firmly pressed together, waiting for further instructions. I pull back, only to nudge his mouth with my nose, showing my intentions—once, twice—until he gives me a small, hesitant smile. It’s fucking thrilling. I’ve never kissed a guy before, and for the briefest of moments I am not sure what to do, how to do this, but then instinct kicks in. My body’s fueled by pent-up rage, because oh, how I hate that I want it. And man, do I want this No One.
My tongue brushes over the seam of his mouth, teasing the sensitive corners of his lips until he lets out a soft mewl. His lips finally part, and I might go to hell for this, but fuck that. Nothing can stop me from exploring his mouth, feeling amped as soon as I get a taste of him mixed with the taste of me. Energy rushes into my body, and I push my chest against his, tasting his lips like he’s the sweetest of treats. “There you go,” I breathe. He gasps when I lick inside, nipping and toying with every bit of resistance I stumble upon, until I feel him writhe against the door. He tastes of vanilla and chocolate, tastes of innocence, this treacherous killerbee. My hand squeezes his throat, showing him who’s in control. His Adam's apple quivers when he swallows, and when I drag myself back to look down on him, his lips are swollen and wet, his large eyes pupil-blown. “Damn.” I swipe my thumb over his mouth. “You taste good.” His cheeks flush a little brighter and he clears his throat, making me lose my grip instantly.
That’s it. Get out, leave.Only, I don’t.
“You tried playing us both, baby mouse—” I trail a finger over his soft cheek, while my cock furiously throbs inside my pants. “First you fuck with All Saints, now you’re fucking with us.”
“I’m sorry, I told you I—”
“Yeah, you did it for two thousand dollars, I get that. Now, get on your knees.” His dark eyes flash in surprise. Well, that makes two of us. Only, he hesitates, as if hoping that I’ll change my mind. I won’t. I have no fucking clue what I’m going to do with him on his knees, but right now, getting him there is the fucking jackpot.No One’s entirely different than I’d expected. Or perhaps he’s exactly what I thought he’d be like when I met him that very first time in the port. A combination of delicate and pride as he drops down onto his knees for me, his shoulders slumped but his head held high. “Tell me your name.” I try to play it cool, but anticipation coils in my stomach. In my mind, he’s already had quite a few.
“Just No One,” he mutters in reply. Grinding my teeth, I pat his nose with the muzzle.
“Come on, baby mouse. Your name.” His mood has shifted, I can feel it in the air. Can feel it in his huddled frame, as it turns inward, safeguarding itself from the world. I don’t care, shouldn’t care.
“I’m—” his tongue darts out to lick at his puffy lips, and my stare follows greedily. “My name is Phoenix.”
“Phoenix,” I drawl, tasting the syllables on my tongue. I like that name. He nods, his dark, unruly curls sweeping around his oval face like a gentle breeze. When I twirl my finger around a strand, it feels soft in my hands, like the finest lace.
His dark eyes are large and fearful—with thick lashes that blink tears before they fall onto his pale cheeks—but they also shine an exasperated flicker, that’s currently battling with something entirely different. Yeah…he feels it too. For a heartbeat, we look at each other, air thick with heat. I need to finish this…whatever this is. But I don’t want to. Instead, I drag the gun along his jaw, to his mouth. My heart's hammering in my chest, my cock hard, balls tingling. This situation is thrilling.
“Beg for your life, baby mouse."
Phoenix flinches, his wide eyes focused on the barrel.
“I—” He rolls his lips, and they part, but no words come out.
“Beg,” I purr, slapping the barrel softly against his cheek. My cock jolts at this feeling of power, ofhunger.
“I’m sorry for what I did," he whispers thickly. "It's true. And if you want to hear me apologize again, I will. I will always apologize.” He sounds genuine, which I absolutely, fucking hate. You don't just go on a mission to killing a gang, you fucking don't. So what am I missing here?
“Goddamn it!” I jam my fist against the door with a loud bang and he jumps. "You're not gonna talk to me, are you? Two thousand dollars, my fucking ass. Well, if you won't talk, then I’ll shut you up." I press the muzzle against his lips. He turns me on and pisses me off, comes across as loyal but is a treacherous, little fuck. “Open your mouth,” I rasp. He blinks, then slowly, ever so slowly, he does just that, parting his lips for me. They quiver beautifully and that’s…fuck. I really should go, or bring him in, or whatever. Not this. Not sliding my gun into the beautifully o-shaped opening his lips have created for me. Yet I do, and we both let out a groan when it slides inside.
“Look at you, taking my gun in your mouth.” My cock is hard as a rock, eyes burning with fire. What would it feel like to have his lips wrapped around my rigid length instead of the gun? I bet he'd be warm, and tight. Wet and sweet. My hands tremble at the thought, much like my insides. I want to taste him again. "I could just shoot you like this,” I mumble, voice sounding restrained.
Though knowing Owen, he would never have passed me a loaded gun for my visit here. The entire family’s too afraid that my temper will fuck up at some stage, and have me sent to prison. They’re not wrong.
“You’re atraitor,” I snap. Phoenix looks at me with moist eyes and something flutters in my chest. It’s light, and breezy, and my hand trembles in reply. I snort, a splintered sound, irony not escaping my thoughts. What the fuck is wrong with me? He’s aguy, and I’m not into guys. But my cock is unbelievably stiff, my mouth watering as chills rush all over me when I gaze down on him. And then a slither of saliva drips down from the corner of his mouth. I watch it roll down his chin and into the perfect, elegant curve of his long neck, while I’m fighting the sudden urge to trace it down with my fingers, to lap it up and taste him again. The thought’s enough to set me off in flames.
“Did you think that you could just come to that park on a killer mission without us knowing? Without me knowing? Do you not think that we have security in place?” My hand still shakes, and this time he sees. His eyes dart to my tattooed fingers, where they stay. Waiting. “We knew about today, which is why we had plenty of security out there. I just didn’t know who would be my biggest threat. Turns out it was you.” Turns out that this guy, thisNo One, has somehow managed to wriggle his way into my system. What the hell am I going to tell Logan and the others?Fuck.
I take in a deep, ragged breath. I can’t do this. Resignation rolls through my core like when I carefully withdraw the weapon. He lets out the softest of sighs that I try my best to ignore. I use the muzzle, that’s wet by his own spit, to slowly, tauntingly, trace the curve of his lips. They are heart-shaped, the lower part slightly puffy. They are perfect. Pivoting his kneeled frame slowly, the wet muzzle traces inches and inches of his skin. His cheek, his ear, the silky strands of his hair.
“Phoenix?” A female voice slurs from the other side of his door, and someone shuffles through the corridor. We both freeze, our eyes locked on one another. His are toffee-colored, the inner circle a deeper charcoal. Dark, thick eyebrows are draped in a perfect arch. He presses a finger in front of his pursed lips, and we listen in silence as the footsteps echo away, though her mumbles are clear, “Lazy, and selfish.”
“Who the fuck is that?” I hiss.
He hesitates, then stares down at his lap. “My mom.”
“Your mom?” Damn, I can’t believe the guys didn’t pick up on that piece of information when we started checking him out.
“Yeah. But she’s practically a ghost these days, she never goes out anymore.”
